Page 17 of Not Another Rockstar
“Where did you get a phone?” he repeated Axel’s question, while putting the greasy paper bags on her table tray.
“What are you hiding from me?” she asked. Nick sat beside her on the bed but didn’t do anything to take the phone from her. “Why do you care if I’ve got a phone?”
Given how the guys were staring at her, there had to be something. She scrolled through all the missed calls and condolence messages. It felt odd scrolling with the wrong hand.
“I’m able to handle it,” she lied, barely glancing at the messages she wasn’t ready to reply to.
She clicked into Artgram, and her newsfeeds revealed what they’d been trying to protect her from.
“Crazy girlfriend causes accident after breakup.”She read the headline numbly. Swiping up, she watched the footage of her trying to get into the concert.
“She’s seen it,” Anita sighed.
Phoebe hadn’t even heard her come in as she scrolled through photos of the crash site. Seeing the crumbled car nearly made her sick. She couldn’t remember the accident, or leaving the car. Given the frightful images, she was glad for her memory-eating concussion.
“They want to sell stories, get likes,” Anita said, interrupting her thoughts. “They think Cillian was driving you back to your hotel after you refused to leave the stadium. With the footage of the security guards not letting you in, and witnesses at the stadium seeing the two of you fighting at the gate that morning, they’ve jumped to the conclusion that an argument caused Cillian to crash.”
“They aren’t wrong—we were arguing,” Phoebe said, though it hadn’t been because she refused to leave him alone. It was her ending their relationship that caused him to lose control.
“Social media artist costs rockstar his life in fatal accident.” She read out another article. ‘Rising star in the art world,Phoebe Fletcher, and her childhood sweetheart, Brothers of Anarchy’s Cillian Hunt, were involved in a fatal car accident following a sold-out concert in Munich. Sources close to B.O.A. revealed how the couple were fighting before the shocking crash that claimed twenty-six-year-old Hunt’s life. Was his failure to appear at Fletcher’s successful gallery exhibition the spark that burned down their relationship? Fans filmed Ms Fletcher being refused entrance into their Munich concert despite her own brother being in the band—”
“Stop!” Nick snatched the phone from her. With only one free hand she couldn’t fight him. “They’re parasites looking for a villain.”
“I’m the villain because I didn’t die,” she snapped, and the room went silent.
“Everything will settle in time, you just need to stay away from social media. Reading all that nonsense won’t help your recovery,” Anita reasoned. She was gripping the end of the bed so tight her knuckles were white. “I’ve released statements that the news being circulated is false, and that you were in a happy, committed relationship.”
“Iwas in a happy, committed relationship. He wasn’t,” Phoebe countered.
Anita glared at her. Now wasn’t the time for jokes, apparently.
“There were dozens of people who saw us arguing that night,” Phoebe said. “You already paid off the victim, but Cillian’s blood alcohol level tells its own story. You can’t bribe everyone into silence.”
“Already done.” Anita shrugged, like it was nothing.
Nick sighed. None of them looked like they’d been getting any sleep.
“What about Helen? The make-up artist?” Phoebe asked, and suddenly everyone found the floor or ceiling very interesting.“An affair with a dead rockstar would be worth its weight in gold in book and movie deals. Don’t act like you haven’t all thought about it.”
“Taken care of.” Anita crossed her arms.
Phoebe had to admire her for being so thorough. No wonder Cillian was able to hide things for so long; he had someone in his corner cleaning up his messes.
“Great, so I’m to play the grieving fiancée?” Phoebe asked, hating how easily everything was being swept under the rug.
How was she even meant to do that? God, she hated that she hated him. She hated that she loved him. Nothing felt right; she couldn’t just be the sobbing, tragic fiancée.
The others didn’t make any of this easier.
“You are a grieving fiancée,” Nick snapped. “Despite his mistakes you loved each other very much. This is just your anger talking. This is why we didn’t want you to see the news.”
“I’m angry with him regardless of what the gossip pages write. Why didn’t you want me to see the news, if everything is under control?”
“Because there is a small fraction who believe that you’re responsible. They’ve made threats.” Axel broke the hard news with ease, and she appreciated his honesty.
“That’s expected—you’ve all had your fair share of crazies. Why are you concerned?” Phoebe pressed, not wanting an ounce of truth kept from her.
“Deaththreats,” Anita revealed, typing away on her phone. Probably putting out another fire.
